Not an Exit
by Psychofan
Summary: When the BAU is sent to a strange city to solve a dangerous case, Reid must forget his beliefs about how the world works and seek out the help of bizarre paranormal investigator, Hanna Cross, and his undead partner.   Reid & Hanna centric! No pairings.
1. Prologue

Two men seated at their desks, in two different states not so far from each other, in entirely different occupational buildings, were both having a terrible time at work.

For Dr. Spencer Reid - one of the Behavioral Analysis Unit's Supervisory Special Agents of the Federal Bureau of Investigation (a fancy title that meant he studied criminal behavior to catch murderers), it was one week away from Halloween. While this was the agent's favourite holiday, it also meant that criminals were running rampant, eager for the most macabre time of year to give them the cover of darkness. This being said, the agents at the BAU were kept extra busy.

For Hanna Cross - part-time worker bee at Target and part-time paranormal investigator - it was a Monday afternoon, just at the hour that most people got off work. The customers were grumpy and impatient, and his boss wasn't much different. Hanna seemed to be moving a mile a minute without a break all month long. Parents and their children came to him demanding where to know where the candy and costumes were. It was always like this around holidays, though, so he expected no different.

Although one wouldn't know it if they didn't outright ask, the knowledge of Halloween just around the corner both excited and worried Hanna as well. Halloween was fun, and he still looked young enough to go Trick-or-Treating, but the holiday was a dark one. Paranormal creatures came out of the shadows long enough to let all hell loose, and didn't shrink back down to normal level until October ended.

Criminals acted the same way. Murders were committed year round, of course, but things seemed to get especially grisly around Halloween, and in more frightening ways. Something about the dark themes of the holiday inspired criminals to get more creative and less careful in the ways that they killed.

While the lack of precaution from both universes (paranormal and criminal) made cases flow in more often and also made them easier to solve, the two investigators were kept far too busy for their likings.

A strange kind of fear kept both men awake late into the night, - which wasn't uncommon as it was - discomfort and nervousness rolling around in their busy minds. As they both stared up at the ceiling in different parts of the country, watching as dawn lit up their rooms, they wondered what was going to happen this year.

* * *

><p>AN:<p>

Well, this is a weird idea for a crossover. I'm pretty sure that Criminal Minds fans and Hanna is not a Boy's Name fans don't really cross paths very often, seeing as the two come from two different kinds of media. I mostly wrote this for myself honestly, because I just love the idea of Hanna and Reid interacting for some reason.

This is exciting! My first ever fic published to FF! :DDDD Critique is always welcome, even though this is only a prologue.

Still getting used to publishing on FF. Sorry for any weird twitches.

More soon!


	2. Like Humans Do

CHAPTER ONE

Hanna hadn't been home from his shift at Target for more than a few minutes before a knock at the door revealed his roommate and himself to have a new case to solve. After listening to the man's story, he thought it appropriate to grin like an idiot and dance around for a few moments before settling down and accepting the case with a frantic nod.

Even though he'd gotten many cases in the last three weeks, he still felt excited whenever he got a new one. A new case meant more money, which meant less stress, which meant less to keep him up at night, which meant that he had more energy to spend time with his friends. If he could, he would just quit his stupid, boring, frustrating job at Target and work full time as a paranormal investigator with his partner.

It was a simple case. A vampire was apparently squatting in the client's basement, and that client wanted them out. It _sounded_ easy enough.

Hanna and his partner began the case by walking to the client's house in the better part of the suburbs, and immediately started asking questions on the way there. Hanna's partner flipped a small notebook out of his pocket and took notes as Hanna questioned, composed even in concentration. Hanna saw this and smiled to himself. They were like detectives in an old noir film, tracking down leads on the streets on the hunt for a killer.

Little did Hanna know, he would soon be meeting one.

Once all of the important questions were answered, the three of them walked in silence for a moment. The moment was broken as the client looked up at Hanna's partner curiously. "So why is your skin green?"

Hanna opened his mouth to respond for his friend, but he hesitated. Normally he would tell anyone curious that the unhealthy green tint to his friend's skin was just stage makeup, he had stitches lining his cheekbones because he was recently in an accident, and the glowing eyes were due to some specially ordered contacts. However, this client had a bloodthirsty vampire lying in wait in his basement, so what more harm could be done?

"He's a zombie." The redhead answered carefully, looking up at his friend to make sure that he had made the right decision in telling a client his secret. His partner nodded, closing his glowing orange eyes.

The client raised his brows at them, but didn't seem too surprised at this point. "First a vampire, now a zombie . . ." He shook his head slowly. "He's not the brain-eating sort, is he?" The man chuckled, but Hanna could hear the fear as a backdrop

The undead man shook his head. "No, I am not." Hanna couldn't help but suppress a giggle as he imagined his partner staggering around, moaning about braaaains.

The client realized that they had made it to his house, and took his key ring from his pocket. The moonlight reflected off of them. He swung the door open after a moment of fumbling, clearly nervous about going back inside. "Alright, Hanna and . . ." he trailed off. "I don't know your name." He admitted, embarrassed.

The undead man watched as Hanna took the first step indoors, and then followed him. "I don't know it, either."

The client looked at him with a sad sort of pity, then composed himself and walked after the two investigators. ". . . Right. Vampire's this way."

. . .

Reid figured that he may as well try to get in the mood for the best holiday ever, despite the fact that the current case the BAU had was sapping away all of his time and energy. He would read some poetry by Edgar Allen Poe whenever there was extra time, thought up costumes to wear (he was thinking Patrick Bateman from _American Psycho_ this year) and bought as much candy as his leathery messenger bag could hold without bursting all over the ghetto's sidewalk.

Speaking of ghetto, it took him much too long to find a store somewhere that didn't look incredibly skeevy. He wandered the streets, looking for a store that he could go to buy more candy, and he took in the surroundings as he searched. They were in an entirely different state for the case that they were in, and he felt that he should know the surroundings just in case.

The state they were in was not too far north from the BAU headquarters in Quantico, Virginia. They were here on a murder case, which was a pretty common case to have, but there was a catch: no clues were left over. No prints of any sort were left as evidence, no hair; no one even heard the murder taking place. The weapon used wasn't even known.

The victim was absolutely mutilated, though, so it had to have been something sharp. In the pictures that Reid had seen he couldn't even recognize a human being among the gory mess of body parts and blood. How a human (or humans) could do that to someone else, regardless of their mental state or experience with killing, was beyond the man.

This city seemed to reflect that feeling. Every alleyway seemed to be darker than the next, even in plain daylight. There were back-alley offices and clinics everywhere, and on multiple occasions he saw drug deals being made right in front of him. The walls were stained and he always had the eerie feeling that he was being watched, which wasn't entirely untrue.

He stood out very sorely in this part of the city. His sweater vests, height of 6'1 and his less than intimidating aura caught the eyes of suspicious people walking by like flies to honey. He just didn't fit in. His gaunt frame and sleepless eyes probably made him look more like a man who needed a hit - which he did, actually, ever since the incident with Tobias Hankel that seemed so long ago – and he was almost surprised that he didn't get any offers.

Reid very quickly shook that thought from his head as his cell phone rang from his pocket. He answered it on the first ring. "Yes?"

On the other line was one of Reid's closest colleagues, another Supervisory Special Agent, (and maybe even a friend) Derek Morgan. He was a bit older than Reid, and he focused more on the physical factor of investigating, fitting neatly into the stereotype of brawns as a big and intimidating back man with a temper. Despite this, he was one of the nicest and most clever men Reid had ever met.

"There's been another murder." He said simply, and Reid felt his face drop. Another murder in just two days?

"Same UnSub?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yep, this person's been torn up the same way. I can't even recognize them, and there isn't any ID around. We'll have to ask neighbors." Morgan paused, apparently studying the body. "Oh, and get this: it's in the same building, too. Just a floor down from the last victim."

At least the killer had a favourite place, and they weren't dancing around the city in search, Reid thought, narrowing his hazel eyes.

The fact that the UnSub (which stood for Unknown Subject, the one that was suspected of the murder) would kill again in such a short time, in an area that was being watched very closely by the police, was worrying. _ How_ that was possible, he didn't know. Normally someone would kill, wait a while to let things cool off, and then kill again anywhere between a week and years later. It was too dangerous to kill just two days later. That made the trail hot again and gave the FBI clues to work with, which most UnSub's didn't want.

"It seems almost like he _wants_ to be caught." Morgan said, and Reid could practically see his dark brown eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

"I'm not so sure." Reid said absently, more to himself than the agent on the other line. "See you soon." With that he hung up, and began fast-walking in the direction of the apartment complex that the victim was waiting for him in.

. . .

Well, the case with the vampire didn't go as badly as expected, Hanna admitted to himself as he sat on a bar stool in the client's trashed kitchen, watching as his partner finished bandaging up the client's arm. The house was a complete disaster, but at least the vampire was out.

Hanna had expelled the vampire from the client's house with a magic rune that he had found online somewhere, and it worked to an extent. It had eventually kicked the vampire from the house, but not before he got the chance to tear everything in sight to shreds, including the client's arm.

At least the client was alive this time. Last time they got a house call to banish a vampire from a client's house, the client was taken to the roof and sucked dry before Hanna could save him. After a short scuffle involving a hammer to the vampiric intruder's head, the client, whose name was Conrad, was sired and brought back to (un)life by drinking the vampire's blood.

Of course Conrad was very angry, just as Hanna had expected, but at least he was alive, right? Well, _kind of_ alive. Hanna sighed, clearing his head from those thoughts as he finished bandaging up the clients arm and returning to the situation at hand.

"Luckily you won't need stitches," Hanna's nameless partner murmured as he looked over the client, and then turned to look at the redhead behind him. "You're lucky, too."

Hanna grinned sheepishly and shrugged, knowing well that his partner was right. Normally Hanna was the one to get beaten up in a case, but he was mostly untouched sans a few scratches and bruises here and there. Even the magic, which had a habit of causing the redhead to vomit blood or pass out or something else equally worrying, had no effect on him this time.

"I'm invincible," he claimed cheerfully, thumbing himself in the chest. Suddenly he seemed to recall that there was an injured man sitting in his destroyed kitchen, probably wondering why on Earth he didn't just call the cops instead of the goofy paranormal investigator and his somewhat creepy zombie partner.

"Sorry," Guilt smacked him hard like a sack of hammers. He would be feeling this for a while. "Sorry. That doesn't usually happen; you weren't supposed to get hurt." He thought for a moment, and stood to leave, causing his undead friend to cast him a concerned look, not that anyone but Hanna could tell. "I don't know if I can accept your money."

The client looked up at him, tired, but relieved. "As long as the vampire can't come back, I honestly don't give two shits about my arm." He reached into his pocket with his good arm, and pulled out a wallet. A moment later, he shoved two fifty dollar bills into Hanna's palm before he could object and waved him off, not wanting the loud redhead around when the headache set in.

Weird kid. He was so small and he looked as if the breeze might snap him in half, but he was a tenacious little thing. And what was his name? Hanna? What kind of name was that for a boy? The client shook his head and sighed, not looking forward to the mess he would have to clean tomorrow.

Hanna was speechless as they exited the house (which still looked nice on the outside, at the very least) and the undead man reached over and gently took the money from Hanna's grip and put it in his trench coat pocket. He knew of Hanna's spending habits. "This is going towards the rent."

Hanna looked at him with his blue eyes, a pout beginning to form on his lips, and then he sighed. "You're right." He smiled up at his friend and playfully punched him in the side, which the undead man gave a small smile at, one that wouldn't have been noticeable to anyone but Hanna.

"A-ha!" Hanna cried, and pointed at his friend's face. "Ping! I made you smile." He was referring to a game that he'd been participating in ever since Conrad had unofficially joined their team. Hanna had noticed that neither the zombie nor the vampire smiled enough, and so he started keeping track of them, yelling '_Ping_!' and taking a mental tally whenever he saw one. He kind of hoped that it would encourage them.

"Who's winning?" The undead man asked, turning his head to hide another smile. He found himself smiling more and more ever since he'd met Hanna, and feeling things, too. The decade that he'd spent wandering alone and emotionless after digging himself from his grave _undead_ was finally coming to a close, he knew it.

"You are, of course. Conrad's just a grump," Hanna said to himself, and walked next to his friend on the sidewalk. "When we get home, can I have some pancakes?"

The undead man nodded, unaware of just how unimportant pancakes would become once they found out what was waiting for them back at their apartment.

* * *

><p>So this chapter was mostly getting to know the basics of the characters and setting. So, kinda boring right now. The next chapter should be doing some more of that, mostly with Spencer, and then: Plot! :D Yaaay. I guess I don't really need to do that, but I imagine that some people may be reading just for HinaBN, and others just for CM.<p>

It's been a _long _time since I've written anything, so if you see anything that's strange or off, tell me, if you would. I love being told how I can improve. I'm seriously rusty.

Also, useless trivia: I saw somewhere a while ago a freaky-looking picture of Reid's actor running down a hallway, axe in hand, dressed as Patrick Bateman. So that's where that idea came from. You should check that shit out.

More soon, if anyone's reading this?


End file.
